If only I had a control button, I would press pause, rewind, erase and DELETE. Or maybe I would just capture a few segments and change them. So what was my year in rewind: Discovery day, psychology SOS, trying to mend a broken marriage, spying on the other woman, spying on the husband, becoming secretive, breaking down, flying back home, he follows but gives up, I fly back to find more lies, I leave again, a decision is made to divorce, the birth of a blog, exhaustion, insomnia, drinking the nights away, faking it, wildly dancing, dating again, falling in love, flying for love, double trouble, mending a broken heart, re-immigrating, leaving it all behind, starting anew.

So yes I’m erasing the past and starting chapter 2 in my so-called life. Because “If at first you don’t succeed – destroy all evidence that you tried”.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to wake up in a fantasy? We spend our lives trying to turn the FANTASY into REALITY. And who is to say we’re wrong for wanting our days to glitter and shine? For wanting our lives to feel like a dream that never ends? Trade fantasy for reality and you might feel like Alice back from Wonderland. The world may not sparkle and shine, but the ground will be solid beneath your feet. And your eyes will be open to all the adventures that lie waiting for you, right here in the real world!”

So what do I want my life to look like fast forward? I already know…and I think if you’ve read any of my posts you do too. I just hope that this time I don’t fall straight back into the rabbit hole. No fantasies for this girl, just a few resolutions to start the year: To get over it, to leave the past behind, and to be happy. Do things that make me happy and be with people who make me happy. That shouldn’t be too hard to achieve. So lets give it a try. Here’s to a brand new year full of happiness!

“Not all scars show, not all wounds heal, sometimes you can’t see the pain someone else feels”

Once upon a time I felt like I was on top of the world. Now I feel like I am on the bottom. Once I thought my life was falling into place. Now I feel like it has fallen apart. So Who am I Fooling? Can’t they see behind this mask? Don’t they feel my pain?

I’ve been down in the dumps the last few days. Or is it months? I can’t remember. It seems this year I’ve been more sad than happy, more down than up, more tearful then cheery. And by now it’s hard to remember when I’ve been gloomy or why. On the up side it does make it easy to recall the few great moments I’ve had. Those few passionate kisses, the rare moonlight strolls, the gentle touch of hands wiping away my tears, the tights bear hugs, the memorable chats that seemed to go on forever, the wild dancing in the nights, the reckless drunken moments of craziness, the rolling laughter and the fun.

Yes they say that in order to truly appreciate the good one must first experience bad. But who are we fooling? Would I have enjoyed the good less if I wasn’t in such a slump? Can good not be fully appreciated when contrasted with neutrality or indifference rather than with bad?

I know I know. I’ve heard it all before. “Love yourself first”, “Learn to be happy on your own”, “It’s empowering not to need a man”, and “You are more than the men you like”. But as much as I keep hearing these things, I also know that the whole Fake It Till You Make It isn’t really working for me. Either I really like being in victim mode, or I just don’t know how to stop feeling sorry for myself. I want to stop looking at other couples in envy. I want to stop being jealous when I see a pregnant lady walking by. I want the dream. YES I want to be in a relationship. And not just any relationship, but a LOVING relationship. Not because I’m pathetic, or weak or lack self-esteem when I’m on my own. But because I’m human. And we humans, as the social animals that we are want contact. Someone else to be with, to share ourselves with, to laugh with, to love. Is it so wrong to want it? Is it so bad to think I deserve it?

I’m not sure if people don’t realize or just don’t want to realize how sad I am. They see this as a fresh start to my new life. All doors are wide open and I am free to walk through any one of them. But those who truly know me can probably tell that although I keep myself busy,no not just busy but exhausted. Although I am overloaded with work, and surrounded by friends… I am not in a happy place. Not just yet.

As it snows once again on the pages of my blog, I suddenly realize that it’s been more than a year since I’ve been blogging. More than a year since I’ve been writing, sharing my deepest feelings and my inner-most thoughts. More than a year of hurting, crying and then bleeding it out on these pages in dire need of support, of a listening ear, sometimes in need of more.

Only a few months ago this was my canvas and I needed my words spilt across it like blood. I was an emotional wreck, out of control. And in an attempt to fill the pain of lost love, I drowned myself in wild nights of dancing filled with men and rum. I am not sure which one I consumed more of…either way, it never seemed enough.

Time, it changes everything. Just a few months ago I was a mess. Today… today I woke up and as I sat up in bed and saw myself in the mirror in front of me, I noticed that I was alone. I smiled sadly at the reflection and pondered at my new reality. Only a year ago I would have woken up in his arms. Feeling warm, comforted, and secure.

Thankfully the thought did not linger long. It’s not that I’m over him. But I guess I’m adjusting to this new life. I cannot say that I do not think about him. His name crosses my lips at least once a day and he is often present in my thoughts. At times I just wonder what he’s doing, or how he’s doing without me. And when I feel particularly lonely, I ruminate if I would have been happier with him right now.

Mostly I allow my mind to remember only the good which makes me reminisce. But once in a while a waft of bad memories come flooding into my mind. And then I wonder if it’s truly him I’m missing or just the feeling of being in a relationship and of being loved. Cause “maybe, just maybe, the best thing we can ever do is admit and accept that someone isn’t right for us. Even if at one point, we swore they were Mr. Right.”

“Everyone goes their own path. Some are just beginning while others end all too soon. The path you’re on, the choices you make, they define who you are.

Choices, they are the building blocks of our lives. They shape our past, present and future.

Every new day brings with it new choices and a whole new world of possibilities.

Recently I was told that it’s time to start anew, to walk a new path, to build a new life. To reflect on everything that happened and figure out what I’ve learned. To apologize to the people I’ve wronged for hurting them, and then to apologize to myself for hurting me. For letting myself down, for belittling myself, for believing I didn’t have any worth.

Most importantly I was told it was time to decide what changes I would like to make in myself, and then make them. But as much as the idea sounds simple at the same time it is so hard to grasp. What are the changes that I want to make? The question still overwhelms me and the only thing I can think of is how much I just want to be happy. That’s the change I want to make.

But how do I do that when I’m not even sure what has prevented me from being happy? No one is really standing in my way. No one but myself. Only my own thoughts and fears have kept me from moving forward. My own choices have prevented me from letting go of the past and the pain that comes with it. It has been my stubbornness that has kept me holding on so tightly to something that no longer exists. To a memory, of a past that once was; to that illusion of the future that never will be. To aringthat keeps me bonded to him.

So after thinking hard about this, staring at my reflection, and digging layer after layer, I’ve realized that what I want to change is the way I view myself. My worth, my value, me. I realized that when I get flattered by someone for something I’ve done, or sometimes even for just who I am, I usually say “thanks but….” Or l humbly laugh the remark away. But it’s not the humbleness that has pushed flattery aside, it’s the lack of self worth, lack of confidence in me. I never see myself as gorgeous, just pretty. I never think of myself as genius, just smart. I never believe I have unique qualities, just regular ones like any other person. I never think I’ll exceed, just succeed. I never think I’m remarkable, just average. I never think I’m better, just good. So I’ve decided what I want is respect. For myself, and from myself.

Respect that I am a terrific wife, a wonderful lover, a fantastic cook, a loving person, a caring colleague, a true friend. Respect that I am a great girl, who deserves only the best from the best. Respect that I should never lower my standards, or give in to other people’s wants if I do not value them. Respect me for me.

Just like love, real women come in different shapes and sizes. Yet we all dream of it: Eating Without Gaining Weight, staying thin while indulging in the best foods our minds can conjure. The yummiest, the juiciest, the choclatiest, the sweetest…

We all want to have that perfect body, to eat that tasty treat without worrying about the high calorie overload or the high carb overdose. We want to know that we won’t stand tomorrow on the scale and watch it break, we want to look down at our naked selves and not see any lumps or bumps, love handles or any other unwanted extras. After all isn’t that what were taught? Skinny is beautiful.

And there she is. We all know and envy her. The one girl who has achieved it. The girl who has it all. She’s perfectly skinny, with a small waist and a flat tummy, long legs, perky breasts, and a nice ass. She’s got a super-hot body and apparently a super-fast metabolism system to match because she can eat whatever she likes without gaining a single gram; while we have to watch every single bite we put in our mouth. We eat little and watch ourselves gain weight, and we just can’t seem to figure out why. So we deny ourselves those foods which we crave the most because we know it’s not worth it. “One minute on the lips, a life time on the hips.” That homemade pie or piece of chocolate, those greasy twister fries, that deliciously home-baked bread, the last slice of pizza, the fat juicy steak, or that perfectly shaped hamburger with melted cheese on top… But to indulge in such forbidden treats we already know we’ll need to punish ourselves tomorrow, and the day after that, and maybe even one more day just to balance things out.

But her, I’ve watched her order two big Macs at McDonalds and then ask to supersize her meal. I gagged as I watched her down both hamburgers one after the other. She’s no girlie girl when it comes to food. She doesn’t pick at it and definitely is not one to order a salad when a guy is around. No she’ll have what he’s having and pick some off his plate too. Where the hell does it all go? Where does it fit? Yet she does it without skipping a beat…and 2 hours later she tells me she’s hungry again.

So finally I asked her the secret, is it just good DNA or excessive secret workouts? And then she told me the truth, her “perfect” solution to the weight problem. After liposuction, and a boob-job, she wanted to slim down even more for the men in her life. She wanted to look and feel perfect naked, just like a girl should be. Just like men want us to be, and society expects us to be. So she does what any normal girl would. Any girl who can’t figure out how to keep the weight off while enjoying life and its delicious treats. She binges…and then throws it all up.

This post is dedicated to all the girls whose self-esteem has been crushed. To all the girls that think they won’t be loved if they don’t have a perfect body. To all the girls who have given in to the pressures of today’s society. This post is dedicated to all the girls who sometimes feel they are not sexy enough, or pretty enough or anything enough. When you don’t know your self woth….remember you are PRICELESS!

I had 8 days to spend back there, in the place where it all began and the place where it all ended. The place that built me and broke me. The place where I turned from a girl into a woman, from a woman to a wife, and from a wife to a divorcee’.

I had 8 days to pass there, and where once 8 days would have seemed like a flash; in a moment of fear and dread, 8 days seemed like forever. Wanting to return before I even got there, missing my family, my friends, my room, and my home before I event left; the tension and the fear made me suddenly realize how fast I have adjusted to my new life, to my new surroundings. How quickly I already felt at home in this new place.

Funny how so many things in life are taken for granted. How I didn’t even realize how quickly I fit straight back in. Knowing the circumstances of my return, and that it was not me who wanted to leave in the first place, I never thought I would enjoy myself as much as I do in my new life. I never thought I would fit quite so easily without skipping a beat. I never imagined myself falling straight on my feet, ready to run again.

But apparently all I needed was to go back to the place where it all began in order to realize I am in a much better place now. I am much more content. Much happier and relaxed. They say that “one way to appreciate what you have is to imagine yourself without it.” I guess as much as I took being back home for granted, imagined it would never suit me, or satisfy me… I now realize I love being back. It doesn’t mean I am never nostalgic, or sad, regretful, or reminiscent of my past; but it means I am also coming to terms with the new place I am in, my new life, my new beginning.

The date is set, it is coming upon me, and ever since I’ve been in the gloomiest of moods. The closer it gets the heavier my heart feels, and the more nervous I am. I feel stuck again. Devastated. Uninspired. I’ve checked out, and yet feel restless even in my sleep. I wonder how much of a setback this will be. How will feel? And how much will it hurt?

But where would we be without struggle, without hardship, and pain? It’s easy to forget how much these moments teach and shape us. How different we would be without them. And it seems that everyone thinks I have grown so much from this. I just wish I was as strong as everyone thinks I am. I wish I was doing as good as everyone believes, or as good as I pretend. Fake it till you make it, right? Well I’ve been doing it, or at least trying. I’ve been shutting off my thoughts, pushing them deeper, ignoring them, I’ve been closing the faucets in the corner of my eyes, not allowing myself to cry, or feel vulnerable or hurt. I’ve been numbing the pain. No longer talking about it, or writing it down. Hoping that ignoring it will make it go away.

I’ve been told that all it takes is just the conscious choice to be in a good place, a choice to see the positive spin on things, to see the beauty that others see. So I’ve been pretending that I’ve moved on, that I’m alright. I’ve been showing interest in new men, in a new job, in my new life. But it’s all been a lie. I still feel everything I felt before. I am still attached to the life I left behind. I still miss being a wife, a partner, a lover, a friend. I still miss waking up together next to someone enfolded in his arms, I still miss cooking for two, and I still miss our regular outings, our friends, going to movies, holding hands. I miss that comfort that I had. All I really want is some comfort, and a way to calm the angry voice. All I really wishfor is happiness. I’m not sure with whom but in general. I just want to find my place. To be happy again. To love and be loved in return.

My birthday turned out fine. Yes I spent the first few hours of it in victim mode, depressed, sad and lonely. I didn’t weep quietly or wipe away a tear or two; no I cried and cried, loud and messy till there was no more tears left to cry. I wallowed in misery and self-pity, walking around sorry for myself, refusing to be happy for being alive.

But my day quickly turned around and by noon there were barely any tears left. Logic had set in. Realizing how much love the universe was sending my way I wiped my nose, dried my eyes and turned my upset face into a smile. Since midnight I had received countless messages on my Facebook, numerous phone calls on Skype, some text messages on my mobile, and a few notes on my blog, all filled with many wishes from friends and family both here and abroad. And then before going out to dinner with my family, when I least expected it I received the best gift of all. A bouquet of roses, red and white, beautifully tied in a golden bow. The bouquet was from a man, but not just any man. It was from the man I least expected it from, yet most cherished. And that simple gesture from none other than my “baby” brother meant the world to me.

So yes, maybe like lesson #45 says: the best is yet to come. Maybe when one door closes it’s not a window that opens up, but rather another door, a better one. It’s just that so often we look so long and so regretfully at the door that closed that we do not see the one that opened up for us. And yes maybe it is true that in the midst of difficulty lies opportunity. The pessimist in me sees the difficulty in every opportunity; but it is the optimist in me that still searches with hope for that opportunity that lies in every difficulty. So maybe life isn’t tied with a bow (like my bouquet of flowers), but it’s still a gift. And that’s lesson #50, the last lesson of the book “Life’s Little Detours” by Regina Brett. So have I discovered all the secrets to finding and holding on to happiness? I’m not sure. But I know I will get there, because the best is yet to come.

You would cry too if it happened to you. Yes it’s my birthday and I am officially old. I know I said that last year and the year before that too. But at least back then my life seemed to be on track. I had a great job, a wonderful husband, and I was already entertaining the thought of having kids. Now it’s all just fallen to pieces. And I can’t seem to get them back into place. No amount of glue seems to be able to place those pieces where they belong and keep them together. So in the deep of the night, when I can’t fall asleep, and my thoughts haunt me, I secretly fall apart.

I HATE him. I really do. For making me vulnerable. For making me endure so much pain. For hurting me like I never knew someone could hurt. For making false promises. For feeding me lies. For wasting my time. For taking the best years of my life. For throwing them away. For making me love him, but not loving me enough. For wanting to stay friends now that we are divorced. For asking about me and showing interest. For knowing how to manipulate me. For the greatest mind f#uck of all times. For making me feel guilty, even now. For making me feel like a victim. For taking me away from my comfort zone. For making me have to start a brand new life. For making me doubt myself. For making me so insecure. For loving her. For making me feel so unloved. For making me feel unworthy. For making me feel I wasn’t enough. For making me feel unsexy. For making me feel I will never get what I want in love, in life. For making me lose faith yet still have hope. For making me a skeptic, yet not enough to protect my heart. For making me feel I should just settle for Mr. Right now, rather than Mr. Right. For making me crave the touch of a man. For making me miss being hugged. For making me feel miserable and lonely. For the depression that attacks me especially at night. For not loving me unconditionally until death do us part. For creeping into my thoughts and somehow controlling them. For breaking me, and shattering my heart. For not being the one.

I hate him for doing this to me. Or am I doing this to myself? Maybe I hate me.

Behind this mask, behind the pretty face, and that beautifully innocent smile; behind the giggles and the gentle voice, behind the pretense of confidence and self-assurance; is a vulnerable girl, damaged, broken, hurt and lonely.

A girl, who craves attention, yearns for a hug and a passionate kiss. A girl who wants to be loved and knows that she still has so much more love in her to give. A girl who wants to wake up entangled in someone else’s arms. A girl who longs for the warmth of a man, his body engulfing mine. A girl who lacks patience because she wants it all and she wants it now.

And the more I want it, the more I realize that I am alone. Alone and lonely. Feelings of loneliness ambush me especially at night. While my days may be busy and full of laughter, my nights are sleepless, endless and lonesome. On those lonely nights thoughts, uncontrollable and unwanted, invade my mind and consume me leaving me sad, mad, even enraged. Sometimes those thoughts carry on into the daylight. It can happen suddenly and it always catches me off guard. Usually it happens when I’m alone, without my mask. When I allow myself to feel. The tears well up in my eyes and I just start crying. It could be in the car while I’m driving; suddenly an old tune on the radio reminds me of him. Sometimes it’s just an old couple walking together hand in hand; the vision of them fills me with envy and remorse of that future that I so wanted and am afraid I will never have. Sometimes it’s a pregnant lady or a baby laying there so sweet and silent in their stroller, eyes twinkling with laughter looking straight at me.

I know I should learn to love myself first, before I let someone else love me. I know I should learn to enjoy myself, to be independent and on my own. Yet still I can’t help but wonder, is this life better? Can I live with this loneliness? I was happy as part of a couple. I was happy with compromising. I was satisfied in my life. Content with my comfort. I didn’t ask for much more. Why did he have to take it away from me?

I want it back, that life. Not necessarily with him. But I want the comfort. Maybe it’s that little control freak in me that just wants to know what each day will bring. No surprises, no butterflies, no highs or lows. Just an easy peaceful feeling that comes with being comfortable. With knowing the man at my side. Knowing I don’t have to impress him, but he’ll still love me. Knowing how to make him happy. Knowing he will make me smile.

I want to shed the mask, without feeling vulnerable and exposed. I want to tear down the wall I built without getting hurt. I want to remove the pain that lies beneath. I want to move forward without regret of the past I once had, or the future I dreamed of.